1. |
Ant Farm
07:15
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Out past the shopping malls sits a boring office park; that’s where I spend my time. Just off the central hall, sub-basement of building ten, cube three hundred fifty nine. The buildings may look small and unimposing, but if you could see the tunnels underground—Like in an ant hill—there’s concealed a sprawl, where tens of thousands like me can be found.
This is what we give: these are the best years of our lives. This is how we live: spending our lives apart inside. This is what we love: this is how we pay for all our stuff. This is not enough, this is not what we’ve been sold. This is not enough!
My badge, it is dark blue: Tech Consultant, Level 2; annual contract review. And if I make just one wrong move, or if they change a plan or two, my badge, my title could be through. So here I sit with you and say some words, so the minutes show my presence in the room. Then I check my Facebook on my phone and daydream about better things to do.
This is what we give: these are the best years of our lives. This is how we live: spending our lives apart inside. This is what we love: this is how we pay for all our stuff. This is not enough, this is not what we’ve been sold. This is not enough!
What if we could live another way? Forgive the past and live just for today? Do you think we would? What if we could spread the wealth around, so that no one had to starve or had to scrounge? Do you think we would? Do you think we would? There’s just one way to find out.
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2. |
Asylum
06:05
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Turning, churning; things fall apart; the center cannot hold. But in the devastation, we can start anew and build a paradise in hell where we are true to the lost and to the new. Free from the past, free to renew.
Turning, churning; things fall apart; the blood dimmed tide is loosed. But in the devastation, we can start anew and feel the joy in sorrow, bittersweet but true. From the ash into the blue, built with love from each to you.
Not all will be so selfless; some can’t and some refuse. Some lack enough to give, some have too much to lose. They fear the changes. They need to maintain control. They fear the changes. They fear we won’t need them at all.
They fear a loss of status. They want to keep their place. They want to be above, they need to save some face. They fear the people. They need to maintain control. They fear the people. They fear the truth to be told.
They see a zero sum game; everything win or lose. Willing to scorch the earth, winning but still they lose.
When once what’s done is done and yet we still remain. There’s yet another chance to make the world humane. To make the world humane.
And in the devastation, we can start anew and build a paradise in hell where we are true to the lost and to the new. Free from the past, free to renew.
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3. |
Courtesy Patrol
07:39
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When you’re stuck on the side of the road and you can’t get where you want to go, that’s when we come sweeping in to fix you up and get you going again. Empathy in traffic control: the courtesy patrol.
When you’re out on the town with your friends, and you do something that causes offense, that’s when we come sneaking in, to set you straight so you don’t do it again. Harmonizing social roles: the courtesy patrol.
We keep watch to see that everything’s all right. We keep watch to see that you’re all polite. No there’s nothing creepy about it at all, it’s just a courtesy: a courtesy patrol.
When you’ve got what you need at the store and you’re headed out of the door, that’s when we come
leaping in, checking receipts before you go again. Euphemistic loss control: the courtesy patrol.
[Never forget an anniversary again with our automated courtesy solutions. Our sophisticated algorithms will craft personalized messages, perform regular check-ins, and send special gifts designed to ease the maintenance and improve the status of your personal relationships.]
We want you to be happy. Why won’t you be happy with everything we do for you? Everything we do?
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4. |
Checked Out/Break Room
04:38
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I’m in a meeting that never ends, but keeps proceeding. Always extends, never completing, never makes sense.
So why try? Just check out instead. Most meetings are an excuse to shirk while doing something that looks like work. A pretext to flaunt fluency in jargon, too bad that logic isn’t part of the bargain.
I get my laptop and start to code but then I’m told, “all laptops closed.” So I submit, wishing that I could quit. But I can’t so I’m stuck with this bullshit. Now it’s time to go around the room. You’d think that meeting would end real soon, but Bob’s got something to say, there’s no doubt. Screw that. I’m done, because I’ve checked out.
I’m in a meeting that never ends, but keeps proceeding. Always extends, never completing, never makes sense. But I’m stuck, checking out is my defense. The air is stale and the room is hot. My body’s there but my mind is not. I’m in Belize in the ocean breeze, a drone outside but inside I’m free.
That’s how I manage to keep it together. The advantages are easy to measure. Go in each day, collect my pay: half-assed, the American way. So if you’ve got a job you don’t like, don’t quit, there’s no need to strike. Without your wages you’ll starve, there’s no doubt. Just work half-assed while you stay checked out.
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5. |
The Blue Line
10:10
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On the blue line it’s a long ride home. On the blue line it’s a long way home. Don’t you miss that line, go procrastinating. But when I missed that line, there was a wide world waiting.
When I was young I liked to go outside the lines; I couldn’t be tied down. But instead I always had to toe the line; I couldn’t get around. And so I waited, hesitated, ’til that line went by. Calculated, I was elated to be left behind. So I walked home all alone. The wide wide world was mine to roam.
When I was young every way through seemed new and strange, until I knew them all. And when a thing becomes familiar it’s not the same, and the world seems small. But in the skyline there’s a blue line, always just beyond. A beckoning sign above the confines of our earthly bonds. A new frontier, the great unknown that draws me out from my small home.
And so I shot up towards the stars on a one way trip to Mars, on the blue line, on the blue line. Although I’ll never go back home, I’ll have a whole new world to roam. Making new lines, making new lines.
Ever onward, ever outward. Always forward, never backward. Leaving it behind, focusing my mind, on the blue line.
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6. |
The Mesmerist
04:57
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She can see from here into the Astral Plane. She can se all the points lying in between. She can reach through the fabric of time and space. She can take what she needs to remake this place. Some call it magic, what she can do. Some feel a panic, call it taboo. Some wish that they could do it, too.
They’re aware when she’s there. With a shimmer in the air, she’ll bend the world to her will and then…
Pretty as you please, taking what she needs. All as she foresees. Without a hitch: The mesmerist. Special kind of grace over time and space. Matching quantum states. Beyond physics: the mesmerist.
She marks the threads on the curtains of time. She stacks the deck and makes those marked cards shine. Some call it magic. Some feel a panic. Some wish that they could do it, too.
When the world starts shimmering and nobody remembers a thing.
Pretty as you please, taking what she needs. All as she foresees. Without a hitch: The mesmerist. Special kind of grace over time and space. Matching quantum states. Beyond physics: the mesmerist.
She casts spells folding spacetime. Making metaphors real.
And with every move she makes are cascading movements in time and space. Rippling across all states, it’s magic. And she will make you blind. Her brightness will occupy your mind. Intoxicating by design, it’s magic. Manipulating uncertainty, altering probability. Multiple realities, it’s magic. What’s that in the box? Black cat in a box? Uncollapse the box, it’s magic.
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7. |
Wallfacer
07:04
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They’re coming. There’s nothing we can do. We can’t escape, they’re coming. There’s nothing we can do. They’re watching, they’re watching all we do. We can’t escape, they’re watching. They’re watching all we do.
How can we defy the omnipresent eye? (Not everything can be seen or shown…) Only blind to what’s inside the mind. (…or truly known.)
Wallfacer, your work is never done. Inscrutable Wallfacer, you haven’t yet begun. Wallfacer, accountable to none. Inscrutable Wallfacer, what have you done?
Like the eastern monks of old, they shall not bare their souls. (Like everything, even walls must fall.) They face the wall that they might save us all. (Even walls will fall.)
[The first Wallfacer planned crimes against humanity: to murder billions, giving aid and comfort to the enemy. (There must be another way.) He committed suicide when his plans became known. (There must be another way.) The second Wallfacer planned crimes against humanity: to destroy the solar system in a game of mutually assured destruction. (Some prices are too much to pay.) When his plans became known, he was killed by an angry mob in the streets of Caracas. (There has got to be another way.) The third Wallfacer committed crimes against humanity: using technology to control people’s thoughts, inducing panic and despair.
Is this how we plan to save humanity? (’Til the walls come down.) Putting all our trust in them? (’Til the walls come down.) Trusting that they would serve all our interests? (’Til the walls come down.) How could we be so naive? ’Til the walls come down. (’Til the walls come down.)]
How can the world be just when we can’t trust even the best of us? Who can you trust? The dark maze always disrupts the web of trust. Walls between each of us; who can you trust?
Who can you trust ’til the walls fall down?
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8. |
The Mighty John Astor
10:19
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Day after day. Ceres-town bound, so they did say. Bound instead for the grave, day after day. Time is money, don’t you be late. Time is money, day by day.
The Mighty John Astor, king of the stars. The greatest disaster this side of Mars. Too slow to make that turn, too fast to flip and burn. So long. (Pour one out for The John Astor.) Some say he’s out there still, ghost shipments to fulfill. So long.
Day after day. Captain got bent, crew shied away. What went wrong, none would say. Day after day. Time is money, don’t you make waves. Time is money, day by day.
[John Astor was a Colony-class space freighter that wrecked near the moons of Saturn on the 17th of September, 2293, when captain Orson Keane took a shortcut to save time en route to Ceres and sent the ship directly into the the path of an S-type asteroid. All hands were lost.]
Time is money, don’t be long
Day after day. Captain had his plan, captain got his way. Four score souls had to pay that fateful day. Time is money, haste makes waste. Time is money, day by day.
The Mighty John Astor, king of the stars. The greatest disaster this side of Mars. Too slow to make that turn, too fast to flip and burn. So long. Pour one out for The John Astor. Some say he’s out there still, ghost shipments to fulfill. So long.
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The Autocorrect Champaign, Illinois
People used to type things incorrectly. Then we came along.
The Autocorrect recommends:
So many great songs, especially Sea Anemone, which tends to get stuck in my head
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